Particular Glow
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: Post S2 Christmas Special. Carson's reaction to the news of Matthew and Mary's engagement; she dances the last dance of the Annual Servants' Ball with him, and he lets her go.


**_Soli Deo gloria_**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Downton Abbey.**

 **Was last to jump on the Downton Abbey train but now I'm riding it 'til it runs out of track. :)**

 **Takes place immediately after the proposal in the Season 2 Christmas special.**

Carson noticed them first—Matthew and Lady Mary's entrance back into the Servants' Ball-room. The Ball was finished—Lady and Lord Grantham retired back to his study, Lady Edith took to bed, and the servants had presumed that Mary and Matthew had gone off to talk somewhere, ready to call Carson to order his car once he was ready to make his departure. But now Carson knew Matthew Crawley wouldn't be leaving through the blustery January midnight for some time.

Mary was positively glowing—her pale skin shone with otherworldly light, her smile was something out of heaven—never before had she been lit up from within with such obvious ethereal happiness. A black suit jacket was laid across her shoulders; its proud owner held her gloved hand lovingly in his.

The light chatter exchanged small and quick between the servants let up. Carson's eyes grew wide and Mrs. Hughes's audible gasp filled the sudden silence in the room.

"Carson, please summon Papa and Mama. We have some news for them I think everyone will find exciting," Mary said. Her cool voice scarcely concealed the obvious happiness she was terrible at hiding.

"They've—they've retired for the evening," Mrs. Hughes stuttered automatically.

"I haven't assisted her yet. They can yet be down," O'Brien said suddenly, hurrying out of the room.

"Yes, of course," Carson said, clearing his throat as he waved a hand to O'Brien, who had possession of her wits at that moment as he had not. When he looked up and met Lady Mary's eyes, she gave him a knowing, kind smile. His eyes filled with tears, and he smiled back at her, that same, knowing smile.

Everyone stood in awkward silence with the air filled with curious electricity. Everyone knew what it was all about, and yet nothing could be said until his Lord- and her Ladyship were first informed of this terribly exciting news.

"Shall I try to see if I can stop Mrs. Crawley's car? I'm sure it's still in the driveway," Carson said, feeling dreadful until he could be made of some use.

"Please don't exert yourself, Carson. She's halfway home by now. She will be informed by morning," Matthew said. While he always had a hint of smile in his voice when he was happy, today there was a whole grin trying to escape. "If she knew now, she'd never catch a wink of sleep tonight."

"I don't think none of us will, neither," Mrs. Patmore muttered under her breath to Daisy, who was full to bursting with squeals of joy herself.

O'Brien was quick, thank God, for another minute or so and surely someone would've said something past a line to let the cat out of the bag. Robert and Cora emerged from the door led by a determined O'Brien. "What in heaven's name is it, Mary?" Robert demanded to know.

"O'Brien made it sound as urgent news," Cora said. Her manner was calm; some motherly intuition stilled her jumping to dangerous conclusions as her husband did. The twinkle in her eye upon meeting Mary's told her she knew already, but was happy to be told properly just the same.

"It is; it cannot wait until morning. We supposed to tell you in private audience, but I think withholding information from our audience here would just be cruelty," Matthew said. He met Mary's eyes with soft blue eyes of a lover.

Robert said, almost stuttering, hoping he wasn't assuming, "Do you mean to say that . . . that . . ."

"My last name will remain Crawley, and Lady still, but I'll be happy to add a 'missus' to it as well," Mary said, her tone casual and calm, even as she couldn't drag her eyes away from Matthew's.

Their ballroom exploded with happiness. Mrs. Patmore dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, Thomas and O'Brien actually shared cracked, knowing smiles at each other, and Anna's genuine smile shone. Robert, face brightened, shook Matthew's hand again and again; Cora kissed her daughter's cheek and said, "Well done." Nobody thought of how Edith would be displeased by their telling without her, and none dared think of the uproar Violet would cause next day when she found out she was one of the odd ones out. She would bristle and stew and be caustically sarcastic for a week, but for once, would be in one accord of happiness with Cousin Isobel.

Mrs. Hughes turned to Carson, but quickly discovered the man was gone. Touching at her own eyes with a worn handkerchief, she searched the servants' rooms until she found him in his office off the servants' hall. The light of several lit candles lit up his transformed face. Usually a demanding taskmaster with an eye for perfection, his heart of loyal gold shone through as he sat at his desk chair and cried. His big thick fingers clutched a wet handkerchief. He looked up with red shot eyes and waterfall streaks down his old marble face at Mrs. Hughes, who smiled in empathy.

"I-I've been hoping and praying that she'd come around to what's good for her," he said, his voice rough and husky as he whisked his handkerchief quickly against his large nose. Mrs. Hughes sat down across from him. "It only took eight years, but she's done it."

"She's ready for it now, I reckon. Eight years ago she was too young, too impulsive, too devil-may-care—" Mrs. Hughes said.

Carson grunted; he'd accept facts but these were too strong opinions about Lady Mary to be uttered in his presence.

Mrs. Hughes accepted this and amended, "But she has come along rightly. Now, I don't think she does deserve someone as good as Mr. Matthew—"

"He doesn't deserve _her_ ," Carson thundered, sounding like his old self again.

Again, Mrs. Hughes backtracked. "They're perfect for each other. They've been long in finally realizing it, but the truth will come out in the end."

"Downton Abbey will now have the perfect new mistress when Lord Grantham dies, let it not be soon in coming," Carson said. He cracked a smile. "No more Haxby Park with that awful Carlisle, pretending to be on the same level as the Grantham family. . ." He bristled. To not have to work for that man or move from Downton Abbey and yet still be of utmost assistance to Lady Mary was all he could hope and dream of.

"That poor Miss Lavinia," Mrs. Hughes sighed, shaking her head. "And then a whole war then, too."

"But it has finally come out to what it _must_ be in the end," Carson said. He pressed the handkerchief thickly against his eyes once more. "I apologize for the loss of my composure, Mrs. Hughes."

Mrs. Hughes smiled. "There is no need for apology, Mr. Carson. I know Lady Mary's your favorite. Always has been. I'd be surprised if you didn't echo this such sentiment at the announcement of her engagement." When Mary and Carlisle announced quietly in the newspaper that they were to be wed, no one really believed them. The date was long in being set, and they never displayed true happiness with one another. But one single look at Matthew and Mary together and one could tell they'd be together forever.

Carson smiled; she was right. She continued—"They're such a strong couple. And yet I don't believe they would've been happy, before now. They _had_ to wait until now, to realize their love for each other."

"Yes, I suppose they did," Carson admitted.

Mrs. Hughes squeezed his hand before standing. "Shall I fetch you a cup of tea to calm your nerves, Mr. Carson? Or would it be wrong to celebrate her Ladyship's engagement with a toasting of a tipple?"

"I shall ask his Lordship, but I do think a tipple would be appropriate," Carson said, grunting as he stood up and steadied his rumpled clothes. "But first, I have one thing to do."

Before the evening was left, before everyone dispersed, Mary heard at her shoulder, "Your Ladyship?"

Mary turned to face her dear old Carson; her smile was quick. "Carson," she said.

He bowed and said, "I give you every congratulation. May your marriage be an example of marriage to all."

"Thank you, Carson. Matthew and I appreciate your support greatly," Mary said.

Carson met her eyes and said, almost hesitatingly, "Your Ladyship, I know the timing is inappropriate, but there is a favor I would please like to ask of you."

Mary folded her hands; Matthew was off engaged in wedding plans conversation with her mother. She said, "I shall help the best I can, Carson. What's your request?"

"The Servants' Ball, ma'am," Carson said, standing straight and tall. "For the last dance of the night, might I have the honor of dancing it with Lady Crawley, before she turns a missus?"

Mary's gentle smile set him at ease. "I'd be honored, Carson," she said.

He smiled, bowed, and she curtsied. They had no music until Thomas, without looking at them or acknowledging them, turned on the gramophone. The fire crackled, their steps were in time, and their dance was soft upon the rich carpet.

The song ended, Carson kissed Mary's gloved hand. "Goodnight, Lady Mary," he said. "And may God bless you."

It felt something like a goodbye; Mary knew she'd always have Carson, but from now on, not as she always had. She hadn't really cried when Matthew proposed or when they announced their engagement but know she felt the telltale signs as she said, swallowing, "Goodnight, Carson."

Carson watched Matthew take her into his arms, into his protection, always touching her arm or hand as they made their way about the room. Carson smiled. He'd let her go into capable hands. The little girl he knew growing up in his beloved Downton Abbey was gone. "Goodbye, Lady Mary," he said, releasing her into another world.

 **Carson's so good! And Matthew and Mary . . . :D**

 **Thanks for reading! Review?**


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